Winter Rose
by ElphieThroppDG28
Summary: "It's probably one of my favorite flowers. Reminds me a lot of the DA last year, actually. Something wonderful flourishing in seemingly impossible circumstances." Neville/OC threeshot.
1. Part 1

_I was feeling bad that I gave one of my Tumblr friends a prompt when she'd already started writing something for me. XD So this is the prompt, and I am dedicating this to her. Because she's awesome and wonderful and stuff. :3_

_I am temporarily taking my RP character, Lizzie Bradley, out of her current universe - AU Next Generation - and putting her here. Because of reasons._

_This is my first Neville/OC story. So if it sucks...yeah. :p Please be nice if you decide to review!_

* * *

Winter Rose

It was one of those bearable December days. One could sit outside without getting too chilly, but it was smart to wear an extra layer if one was going to prolong their stay.

Lizzie made sure to put on her long underwear, just in case.

She'd been a bit eager for the weekend to arrive, and it wasn't because classes that week seemed to be dragging (although she knew that was true for many of her classmates). There was something she'd been meaning to do for a while now, and now that she finally had time to accomplish it, she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

"Where are you headed off to?" Susan Bones looked up from her book, curiously eyeing her dormmate. "You're never this excited, unless…"

Lizzie sheepishly held up her sketchbook, shrugging. "There's this lovely little patch of winter rose that's blooming," she explained, wrapping her scarf around her neck. "I want to at least get an outline before it gets too cold out."

Susan smiled, shaking her head. "You're the only person I know who'd want to spend the whole day outside in the middle of winter."

"It's for extra credit…" Lizzie trailed off. That was the pretense she'd come up with if anyone asked. It wasn't a complete lie; she _had _told Professor Sprout she'd do a side project to make up for the few days she'd missed when she'd been stuck in the hospital wing with the flu…

Susan nodded. "Of course it is."

"You're just jealous that I actually have plans today, Miss Bookworm."

"Speaking of which, weren't you supposed to go for a walk with a certain Gryffindor today?"

"What are you - oh, broom bristles!" Lizzie nervously tugged on a strand of hair. She'd promised her good friend and Herbology partner, Neville Longbottom, that she'd go for a walk with him sometime today. They'd both been rather busy lately and had had little time to spend together, which was why he'd asked her in the first place.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to." She exhaled slowly. "I'll just have to meet him out there."

Susan raised an eyebrow. "You're passing up the opportunity to spend time with him - alone, I might add - just to draw a silly flower?"

Lizzie slapped earmuffs over her ears. "It's not a silly flower. It's special. And I'm going to the owlry to send him a note saying I'll already be outside. We can still go for a walk…I'll just do my sketching first."

Susan gave her a knowing smile. "Neville just can't compete with plants, then?"

Lizzie felt unwanted heat rise to her face. "I never said that."

Susan giggled. "You're lucky he loves them just as much as you, Lizzie."

She nodded. "I'll see you later, Susan."

Climbing out of the portrait hole and walking down the corridor, she started to mentally compose a letter in her head. It wouldn't be too long, and he'd understand why she needed to sketch the plant. It was at its most vibrant in winter, and today might be the only day she could sit for a prolonged period of time.

If it were someone else, maybe they'd get offended, or even stop speaking to her. But not Neville. He might even want to sit with her and study it, maybe even figure out how to repot it and cultivate it in the greenhouses. She smiled absently at the thought as she climbed the stairs to the owlry.

Lizzie had grown rather fond of Neville the past couple of years. Up until then, he'd always been a friend to her, helping her with Herbology when she needed it (and in turn, receiving help from her with Transfiguration), sitting with her when she felt sad, spending countless hours talking about anything that came to mind. She'd never considered him as more than the boy with the toad, her clumsy friend, someone who was always there.

And then fourth year had happened. It hadn't been at the Yule Ball when she'd realized it, like most people would have guessed. It was a few days after, on a snowy day not unlike the one outside. They'd been in the greenhouses, tending to the plants that were more susceptible to the cold outside, and had gotten into quite a struggles with the Venemous Tentacula. They'd both gotten covered with dirt and had various bumps and bruises after the ordeal, but they'd ended up on the floor, laughing in relief that they'd actually prevailed without getting killed.

Being that close to him, she realized he had dimples when he smiled, and freckles that were spattered over his nose, and his eyes weren't brown, like she'd previously assumed (they were a nice hazel color). And suddenly, something in her mind told her how very cute he looked, with dirt smeared on his face and his face flushed from laughing so hard.

She waited for the feeling to go away, because she'd been certain that it would. But it lingered the rest of the year, and grew with the next. She'd been paired up with him quite a lot during DA meetings, giving him an encouraging smile whether or not he succeeded. She was patient with him, and he with her; sometimes he was far more capable at mastering a spell than she was.

There was one time, she recalled, where her form had been off, and he'd stood behind her, guiding her arm in the right movements, and she could feel the growing blush crawling up her face at their proximity. His touch had been firm, but soft, as had his voice in her ear, and her knees had felt weak and she'd nearly -

_WHUMP._

She'd run right into one of the wooden beams holding the roof up, startling several nearby owls. "Ow," she mumbled, rubbing the side of her head.

She gazed around until her eyes fell on a small speckled owl. The little brown bird was sitting contentedly in one of the rafters, hooting softly.

"Hey there, Elinor," she called. "Can you send Neville something for me, please?"

Elinor turned her speckled head, eyeing Lizzie before swooping down and landing on her shoulder, nuzzzling her head. Lizzie stroked the little owl with her finger before gently tearing a page from her sketchbook and quickly writing a note.

_Neville,_

_There's a patch of winter rose growing next to the bench under that lovely maple I love to sit under. I'll be there sketching it, if you'd still like to meet me and go for a walk._

_~Lizzie_

She quickly tied a string to Elinor's leg, bringing her to one of the windows. "Fly this to Neville Longbottom, would you, please?"

Elinor launched into the air, flying off toward Gryffindor Tower. Satisfied, Lizzie, bounded down the steps out toward the Hogwarts grounds.


	2. Part 2

Winter Rose

Snow had started to fall as Lizzie stared at the delicate white petals of the winter rose in front of her. She was having a bit of trouble with the shading…then again, she always did.

She sighed, watching her breath float away in the cool air. She twirled the charcoal in her hand, trying to figure out how on earth she was going to draw the shadows. She couldn't keep using the rubber to erase her mistakes; she'd wear a hole in the paper soon enough.

She knelt down, frowning at the flower poking through the snow. It was funny how this wasn't even a rose. It was a hellebore plant, many of which were poisonous; they usually had five petals and a yellow center, and didn't look a thing like its namesake.

Then again, maybe that was where luck came in. Real roses had many more petals, all of them overlapping, which would mean extra shading and erasing. At least hellebore was a bit simpler.

The sound of wings came from overhead. Looking up, she saw it was Elinor, landing on the bench. The little owl eagerly stuck her leg out, revealing a tiny package no bigger than Lizzie's palm. As soon as it was undone from her leg, Elinor flew off toward the owlry, her job done.

There wasn't a note or anything to indicate who could have sent it, but Lizzie had an idea as she unwrapped the thin plastic. Inside was a chunk of caramel, something that usually showed up around this time of year.

"Thought you could use a bit of sustenance."

Lizzie felt herself smile before turning to face Neville, who was walking up the hill, dark hair swept off his face. It didn't escape her notice that this allowed a nice view of his eyes, and she had to stop herself from staring.

"Thank you." She popped the caramel into her mouth, feeling the gooey chunk sticking to the roof of her mouth. "It's good," she said, or tried to say; it was a bit hard to talk around the caramel, and she realized she must look foolish and a bit gross trying to speak with food in her mouth.

"Gran sent them a few days ago," Neville said. "She made a few extras, because I told her how much you love them." He smiled, and she saw the dimples in both of his cheeks. She caught herself staring - hadn't she tried not to moments before? - and tore her gaze away, taking a seat on the bench.

"I'll definitely need it." She pursed her lips, glaring at the little flower that was causing her frustration. "I can't decide how I'm going to shade this thing."

He sat next to her, quietly studying the plant. "I've always found it fascinating how something so small and delicate can survive during the coldest months of the year," he said. "They're usually more prominently found in the north, by the mountains. Temperatures tend to drop below freezing sometimes."

Lizzie nodded, eyes fixed ahead of her. "It's strange," she agreed.

Neville let out a nervous chuckle. "Sorry. I must sound incredibly boring right now, spouting off facts about plants. Seems to be the only thing I can do without stuttering."

"Oh, no, you're fine!" Lizzie assured, turning her gaze from the winter rose. "I was just thinking about shading. I…I don't mind your talking at all."

Neville's cheeks, which were already red from the cold, went slightly darker. "I really shouldn't bother you when you're lost in thought like that, then."

"I honestly don't mind…"

"But if you're having trouble…"

"I actually don't like drawing in silence…"

"Well, if you really want me to…"

They lapsed into silence, and she found herself looking into his eyes; how on earth she'd ended up doing that, she had no idea. But it wasn't unpleasant, not at all. It was making her heart flutter, and maybe it was just her, but it looked like he was leaning closer…

A snowflake landed in her eye just then.

"Ow!" Blinking rapidly, she tried to rid herself of the burning in her left eye.

"You alright?" Neville looked at her with a mix of concern and amusement.

"I'll be fine. I think I was a bit more surprised than anything."

"Wasn't expecting assault by snowflakes, were you?"

She laughed. "They look so innocent, of course not!"

"Well, then. Better be on the lookout for another one. You never know." As he said this, a snowflake landed right on his eyelashes. He tried to blink it away, but there it sat, slowly melting and leaving a tiny droplet behind. Lizzie giggled as he finally managed to wipe it away.

"Looks like I'm not the only one they're after," she quipped, biting back a laugh.

He shook his head, glancing over at her sketchbook. "I was meaning to ask you: is this for Professor Sprout?"

"Yes and no." Lizzie felt comfortable enough to tell him the whole truth. "I'm doing some extra credit from when I was sick a few weeks ago, but I really wanted to draw this before it got too cold. I'm like you; I love how it can grow despite how miserable it gets in the winter."

She tentatively tried shading again, lightly pressing the charcoal into the corner of one of the petals. She gently smudged it with the side of her thumb, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"It's probably one of my favorite flowers," she continued, moving to work on the next petal. "Reminds me a lot of the DA last year, actually. Something wonderful flourishing in seemingly impossible circumstances."

_Reminds me a lot of you, Neville_, she added in her head.

"That's…I like that," he said; she could hear the smile in his voice. She felt him move closer, and she tried not to tense up. She never really enjoyed anyone sitting right over her shoulder as she worked.

"So…how's Trevor?" she blurted before she could think. Mentally cringing, she grabbed her rubber and erased the jagged line she'd made on accident.

"He's…Trevor," Neville replied. "I try to keep an eye on him during the winter, because he could easily freeze if it gets too cold. As far as I know, he's still in my room, in his tank." He paused. "And hopefully he'll still be there when I get back."

She smiled, looking up at the winter rose before going back to her sketching. "If he gets loose again, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for him."

This is why she loved spending time with Neville. While things could get a bit awkward, they could always find something to discuss. For instance, she'd loved to ask him why his hands were suddenly buried in her hair when they hadn't been a moment before.

Her head shot up, and he froze, his fingers tangled in her strawberry-blond locks. He jerked away, mumbling, "S-sorry…snowflakes…and…"

She grinned, returning the favor and brushing the newly-fallen snow out of his dark hair. "Now you're just distracting me, Mr. Longbottom." She felt her scalp tingling from where his fingers had been, and desperately hoped it was just her imagination.

"Sorry," he repeated, and they grew quiet again. She made a few more adjustments - and mistakes - to the petals, and had started on the stem when he spoke again.

"It's really good, Lizzie," he said quietly. "I wish I could draw like that."

She felt her mouth quirk upward. "Thank you. This from the boy who gets top marks in Herbology."

"I don't see your point."

"Well, we have to sketch things sometimes, and you manage just fine, if I recall correctly."

"Yes. I _manage_. Barely. I'm not very good at detail like you are."

"Just like I'm not very good at the written portion of reports," she remarked.

"You do fine on those -"

"Because you help me."

"No…" He trailed off. "Not all the time."

"See?" She finished the stem, looking over the sketch and letting out a sigh. "I think it's as good as it's gonna get," she said, signing the bottom.

"I like it."

She chanced a look at him for the first time in a while, and there was that smile again, making her heart melt. "Thank you."

"Would you…teach me how to draw?" he asked suddenly.

Lizzie frowned. "I…are you sure?" She wasn't particularly good at teaching anything. She felt like she didn't explain things very clearly.

Neville nodded. "I want to be able to make shadows," he said. "I can never do that on my own."

"Um…alright." She flipped to a blank page, moving the charcoal back and forth. "It all depends on how much light you want to hit the object you're drawing. And you want the shadows to grow gradually." She smeared a bit of the mass, softening the lines. "And you can't be afraid to get your fingers dirty."

She handed him the book, and he sat still, looking at it as if he'd never seen something like it before.

"Try it."

He bit his lip; she could tell he was mentally warring with himself, wanting to try, but afraid to fail. He often had that look when they were younger, especially in Potions class.

"Would you like help, Neville?"

He glanced at her, slowly nodding his head. She'd been dreading that answer, but at the same time her heart gave a little skip. She could do this…

She held her book with one hand, taking his hand in the other, helping him form a fist. She brought his thumb out and guided it along the charcoal lines, smearing them. "A bit less pressure…there we go…"

Her hand on his was causing her spine to tingle uncontrollably. She was sure her face was redder than it had been, and she prayed that he wouldn't notice that she was shaking slightly. "Alright. Now when you're making a shadow, it's best to make it gradually darker. It makes the dimensions seem more realistic."

She slowly lifted his hand to a line near the bottom. "Go from light to dark…like that…"

They stopped when his hand reached the end. To her surprise, he shifted their hands so that he was holding hers. He lifted his eyes to hers, his expression unreadable; she saw that his cheeks were dark red.

"Is…is this okay?"

Her voice was suddenly gone, and she found her head moving up and down. Merlin, this was more than okay. This was bloody fantastic.

And terrifying.

How could something so simple make her feel lightheaded and scared at the same time? He was holding her hand, that was all. No…he was…holding her hand and…brushing more snowflakes out of her hair…but he was going slower than before…much…slower…

"You…had more snow in your hair," he said quickly, looking away.

She blinked, turning to the winter rose, watching snowflakes settle around it. They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, until the two of them started to shiver at the sudden temperature drop. He walked her to her portrait hole, the conversation easy and light as it had been. He let go of her hand only when they arrived at their destination.

"Thank you for walking me back," Lizzie said. "I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to go for a walk."

Neville shrugged. "I don't mind. I enjoyed learning to shade." His cheeks were still tinged with pink.

"Just let me know the next time you need help with it, alright?"

"Of course. And I can…um, help you…with…writing. If you want. I mean, more often than I already do. So…"

Lizzie looked at the ground, building up her resolve. Before she could talk herself out of it, she stood on her toes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you later, Neville."

Neville blinked rapidly, his cheeks positively crimson now. "Y-yeah. I…I'll…see you…L-lizzie."

She climbed through, listening to his footfalls as he walked away. She skipped up to her room, gently tearing out the winter rose sketch and setting it on her nightstand.

"So how was your date?" Susan asked, walking in just then.

"It was nice." She found she couldn't stop smiling.

"Just nice?" Susan raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Just nice."

She considered throwing away the page of smudged lines, but decided not to after careful consideration. Her smile widened as she tucked the book under her pillow.


	3. Part 3

Winter Rose

Lizzie sat in the Great Hall, unable to think clearly. It had been a long night, and she wanted to lie down where she was and sleep for a few hours. Maybe two weeks, if she was allowed.

She couldn't understand how she'd survived, how she'd been able to defend herself. She was never very good at offensive spells, and she had never felt all that brave when faced with standing up to the Carrows this year. She'd just done what she'd needed to, and even though many thought Hufflepuffs weren't strong, she'd somehow made it out alive.

She ached all over, and her wrist was most likely sprained; she also had a rather nasty cut on her cheek. But there were so many others worse off, and she could wait while they were looked after.

Susan was okay; she had a broken arm, but she was intact. Ernie Macmillan was looking after her - something that greatly surprised Lizzie - so she left the two of them alone, instead focusing her search on someone else.

Neville had done so much this year. He'd been their leader, he'd taken so many curses and hexes on their behalf. He'd destroyed Voldemort's pet snake after being set on fire, for Merlin's sake.

As she wandered outside, Lizzie thought back to the year before. As much as she wanted to pursue something with Neville, they'd both come to a silent agreement to keep things the same. They'd hold hands once in a while, and he'd worked up the courage to return her pecks on the cheek with soft, lingering kisses on the forehead. But for some reason, they'd both been too shy to go any further.

In hindsight, it was for the best. It was difficult to see the Carrows target couples this year; the pain in their eyes was almost enough to break her own heart. But even if they weren't together officially, it always made her skin crawl and her chest lurch when she saw Neville hurt. And there was no mistaking the way he held her tightly when she was feeling scared, or if the Carrows had given her a harsh beating.

She found herself wandering toward the maple tree, and it surprised her to see that it was still standing. Everything around it was charred, broken, and destroyed; yet there it sat atop its hill, the bench still in one piece.

And kneeling in front of the tree was Neville.

She felt herself smile, despite how tired she felt. He looked just as ragged as she must have, a huge cut right at his hairline and his sweater bloodied and ripped. The Sword of Gryffindor lay at his side, stained black with the blood of the snake.

She gasped quietly when she saw what was at the foot of the tree.

In the cold May air, a little patch of winter rose was sprouting, dappled with red. It took her a moment to realize it was from his cut.

"Neville, you should really get that taken care of," she said, tearing off a bit of her sweater. She dabbed at the wound, the blood soaking the fabric easily.

He shrugged. "It's not that bad." He reached out a hand, gingerly touching the scratch on her cheek. "I could say the same for you."

Her emotions suddenly took over, hitting her full-force for the first time since the action had died down. They'd just gone through a year of hell, spent countless hours planning a rebellion, faced the worst horrors imaginable…and they'd made it out alive. Realizing this was enough for her to begin to weep, and she was suddenly hugging Neville, as well.

She buried her face in his shoulder, for once not feeling nervous at how close they were. His own arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to his chest. They stayed in each others' arms for a moment, her own sobs almost drowning out his.

She pulled back, studying his face. His tears had traced clear trails through the dirt and soot covering his face. He still bore the scars from the torture he'd received during the year, and there were new ones from the battle they'd just gotten through. His eyes, while hardened somewhat, shone with tears and were gazing at her in a way that made her heart pound faster.

And now his face was awfully close…closer than it had been…and…he definitely looked like he wanted to…to…

"Lizzie?"

"Yes?"

"Can I…?" He swallowed hard.

She must have done something in the affirmative, because he leaned in, albeit slowly. She felt her eyelids flutter close, and then his breath on her cheek.

And then his lips were gently pressing against hers.

She sat still, not really sure what to do. Her heart was beating out of control, and her mind was screaming at her to do a million different things. And then…it went blank. All she could feel was the soft warmth of his lips; she fleetingly noted they tasted like caramel, mixed with grime and blood. His hand was cradling her cheek, and she felt herself relax, gently moving her lips over his. He seemed startled at first, but he leaned closer and kissed her back just as softly.

They pulled away, and it took her a few seconds to process what had just happened.

And for the first time in a while, she saw Neville smile. A genuine smile that reached his eyes.

"I'm, erm, glad you're safe," he said, looking everywhere but her eyes.

She laughed, a sound that seemed foreign even to her. She felt more tears escape down her face.

"You've done so much, Neville," she told him. "You've been so brave…"

He sighed. "I…I don't feel brave. Everyone thinks I'm a hero now."

"Well, you are." She kissed him again. "You have been for a long time."

"I…I haven't…"

She gave him a pointed look. "You've been brave long before this year, Neville. I've noticed for a while. You…you remind me of the winter rose."

"Something beautiful emerging in miserable circumstances."

She nodded. "Exactly."

"Like you."

Her cheeks went pink, and she couldn't fight the smile that worked its way onto her face. She was about to protest, but Neville was suddenly kissing her again, and she was unable to say much else.


End file.
